


A Different Kind Of Courage

by Owlet (shinetheway)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinetheway/pseuds/Owlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Jim and Blair afterwards?<br/>This story is a sequel to Those Damning Words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind Of Courage

## A Different Kind of Courage

by Owlet and McVey

Author's homepage: <http://squidge.org/~theforest/senfic.html>

* * *

Jim opened his eyes, staring out at the cool night lights of Cascade, the gun against his temple a  
cold, harsh presence. His free hand shook; he clenched it tightly against his leg and stared  
blindly until the lights blurred and swam and pulsed with the force of his heartbeat. Dimly he  
was aware that he was panting, but it was something happening to someone else, far away. He  
was poised, on the brink, could feel the darkness gathering to plunge him over the precipice and  
escape. He was so closeso close

_Soon_ he promised himself. _Soon. It won't hurt much longer._ His finger tightened a fraction more; he could _feel_ the trigger compressing, ready to release. And in that one dark moment, he almost embraced it. At last, the pain of loving a man he could never have would stop. 

The only warning he had was a low growl, almost inaudible except as a rumble of sensation across sensitive skin. 

And a heavy, warm body slammed into him, knocking him to the floor, sending the gun skidding across the room. Jim had a brief impression of black fur and an oddly sweet scent before he hit the ground. Normally he would have rolled with the fall, but his reactions were off, and he fell hard, slamming his head into the floor. Jim lunged up from the floor and spun on the intruder with a snarl of fury. Then he stopped short, frozen. 

It was the panther. 

Blue eyes stared with disinterest at Jim's display of anger. Deliberately turning his back on Jim, the panther paced across the room to where the gun lay against the wall, and sat down. Jim started to move forward, but the panther raised his head, blue eyes piercing him, baring his teeth in a silent growl. 

Then the panther began to move, shifting and changing in an eerily smooth glide, coming to his feet. Jim shuddered as emotion streaked through him in a dizzying cacophony-betrayal, fear, confusion, pain, all combining to drive him to his knees. All the energy that had been fueling his inward spiral down exploded out to sweep unchecked and savage over the source of the interruption, but was halted cold by the calm, placid face of the one person in the world he never expected to see. 

Incacha. 

The Shaman of the Chopec, looking exactly like he had he last time Jim had seen him. The same wiry body, the same primitive paintings and decorations and simple tribal dress, the same air of serenity and confidence that he had always had. But there was no heartbeat, and no scent. 

When he spoke, it was all Jim could do to stand upright. 

//Not yet, Enqueri. The time for that has not yet come. Your Guide still waits for you; you cannot leave before him. You move together, not alone.// 

Jim shook his head, willing away the vision. {Please, leave me alone as I deserve. Let me finish what I started here tonight. I do not want to see the morning sun.} Incacha stepped back, faded out and was back, frowning. 

//Enqueri, this is not the path for which you have been chosen. This is not the way of the Sentinel of the Great City. // The voice, formally soothing in life, grated the nerve endings of the living man. 

"Blair's gone." Jim's harsh voice seemed to rasp at the silence, and Jim realized that it was the first real sound that he had heard. 

Incacha nodded, patiently waiting. 

Jim bolted from the couch, his face a cold mask, his body primed for attack. 

"Don't you understand?" He growled much like the panther. "Because of my...cowardice...my fear...Blair has leftme." The last word so softly spoken even with Sentinel hearing, Jim wasn't sure he had said it aloud. 

Somehow saying the words, hearing the words coming from his own mouth, made the nightmare more real. His soul cried. 

Blair was gone. 

"Oh, God..." The fight gone from his body, the face crumbling. Gently a brown battle scarred hand reached out and touched his soul, calming the beast within. 

//Enquiri, what else can an unwanted, unneeded mate do, besides leave? // 

"Mate...I don't understand." confusion warred in the blue eyes. 

//Yes you do. Look into your heart. The answers are there if you choose the path of light instead of the path of darkness.// 

Looking up at the worn, caring face of his old friend, Jim felt the burden of despair, of emptiness crushing in his heart. Blair was gone, and it was because Jim couldn't, wouldn't accept him. Or the love. Had, in fact, rejected the one who kept him grounded, focused, alive. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, not sure whether he was speaking to Incacha's ghost, or to the far more transient ghost of his friend, his partner, his Guide, that still permeated the air of the loft. 

//Do not be sorry, // Incacha chided. //Sorrow is for the past, and you can no longer live there. Your place is in the future.// 

Jim shook his head. "Not alone," he said harshly. "I... can't do this alone. Not again." 

Incacha shrugged. //Enqueri, the choice is yours. Finish what you have started this night, and you condemn his soul to walk this earth forever searching. Guide and Sentinel cannot live one without the other. Will you be responsible for your Guide's death? // 

Jim was frozen. "Blair's death? He will die?" 

Incacha reached out to touch him, his hand warm and firm against Jim's shoulder. //Yes, this will kill him, if you deny what is in your heart. There are different kinds of courage, Enqueri. You have the courage of the mind, of the body. Do you have the courage of the heart?// 

Thinking of all that Blair had survived during his partnership with Jim--Lash, bombs, falling elevators, being shot. It would be ironic if the only thing Blair didn't survive was Jim's cowardice. 

"And if I choose the other path?" 

//Your Guide will live.// The simple statement impacting more because of its simplicity. The four words pushing the barriers of Jim's heart. Barriers that refused to come down, to open, to accept, to love. 

Jim turned to Incacha, blue eyes swimming in unshed tears. "I can't. I can't do what he needs, wants" 

Incacha stepped back. //If that is your choice, I cannot do anything more. The Guide's blood will stain your soul. // 

"Please, tell me...don't let me be responsible for Blair's death." 

//Tell you what Sentinel, that you do not know already in your heart? // 

Incacha's brown eyes burned into the soul of the man he had once called friend. Jim felt the searing coldness envelope his life as it was before the light, the warmth called Blair had entered. 

//I do not know you. I do not know the man you have become. // 

The figure of Incacha blurred. 

Faded. 

For a brief moment Incacha seemed to glow in the harsh artificial light of the city, illuminated from behind. Then he began to change, folding, blurring, darkening... and the panther stood in his place regarding Jim silently out of eerie blue eyes. 

Jim shuddered, seeing the look in the panther's eyes. Pain, distinct and sharp, where he had never seen it before. Dullness that reflected the pain in his heart, pain that _was_ his, he realized, the panther a reflection of himself. But there was more than just sorrow; there was strength, and a kind of patience that spoke of determination, and courage. 

Courage. 

A different kind of courage. 

Did he have the type of courage needed to see this night through until morning? Incacha had said, no, promised Blair would die unless Jim chose the path of light. Did he have the courage to face what was in his heart, what he had admitted to himself in the obscurity of the night? Could he love so his Guide could live? 

There was only one way to find out. 

He hadn't died, the panther had saved him from that--and now he had a second chance. Hope flared within him. Maybe he could walk the path of light. He had to find Blair. Talk to him, be with him. Blair would Guide him on this path. He stood up, clumsy and stiff, almost slipping on the slick wood floor. Automatically he sent out his senses searching for the one heartbeat he knew above all others. Searching but not finding. Jim knew he was heading toward a zoneout, but he couldn't stop himself. Spiraling, out of control, where was his Guide? 

The panther surged to his feet, pacing forward, distracting Jim from the sensory overload. Jim stayed warily still, not sure what the panther would do, but it only came up to him and nudged his thigh. Jim's eyes went wide as his senses dialed back, the presence of the panther serving to control them. "Like Blair," he whispered, and the panther simply looked at him before going toward the door. 

Glancing once around the empty loft, the _too_ empty loft without his Guide presence, Jim closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he knew what he had to do. 

He had to leave. Find himself. Find the courage to walk the path of light within himself. And when he did he would find his Guide. 

Grabbing his backpack, he quickly stuffed the few things he would need on his journey and placing it by the door, he reached down and scruffed the panther behind the ears. The panther rubbed his head against Jim, purring his contentment at Jim's decision. Spying his gun where it had fallen on the floor, Jim picked it up and with determination, placed it on the coffee table, next to the forgotten badge. 

Jim walked out the door, down the stairs, and choosing a direction randomly, started walking. Leaving this life behind. Going to his future. Finding a different kind of courage. 

* * *

The next day, Simon cautiously entered the loft, gun drawn. When Jim didn't show for court. Simon had known something was wrong. Joel followed, swallowing, nervous about what they would find. The loft was as pristine as always. No sign of what might have happened the previous night. No sign of struggle, no chairs overturned. Just a feeling of despair, longing, pain. 

"Oh, God, no..." Simon prayed as his eyes found the gun and badge. Wondering what had happened to his friends. Fearing the worse. 

"Simon, you think they've been taken?" Joel asked anxiously. 

As Simon started to answer, he caught a glimpse of a Chopec warrior and heard a whisper floating in the cool morning air. //The Sentinel and Guide will be back. Give them time. // 

Picking up the gun and badge, he holstered his own. "No, they haven't been taken, but they are gone. For now." 

* * *

Watching the two men leave the building, a solitary figure waited. Seeing the gun and badge in Simon's hand. Knowing it meant his Sentinel was no longer there. Picking up his own pack, hefting it across his shoulders, he too chose a direction randomly and started walking. Not realizing the Guide followed the path of the Sentinel. 

* * *

End A Different Kind of Courage.

 


End file.
